The Fume of Sighs
by legallyblained
Summary: Kurt and Blaine meets Romeo and Juliet. Mainly, the Capulets' party scene.
1. Chapter 1

"BLAAAAINE!"

Blaine sucked in a deep breath as he pulled his face out of the freezing cold water. He couldn't bear to listen to his mother's shrieking any more, but it didn't look like he had a choice. He buried his face in a towel, not as much to dry off as to drown her out. Three. Two. One.

She burst through the door.

"What have you been doing? Why aren't you ready?" She didn't even look at his face, marching straight to the mirror. Her hair was scraped back and covered with a long, curly, black wig. Another Halloween, another Cher costume. Blaine knew she still wouldn't have persuaded his father to be Sonny, despite her best efforts. He doubted he'd even be there. Which just made it more frustrating that he had to stick around. He realised his mother was still talking, and tried to pay attention.

"… Splendid. You'll look divine. I can't imagine why any girl wouldn't be falling at your feet. Finally you'll be the dazzling prince all dressed up, ready to sweep some young thing away… Did I tell you who we invited?" Blaine sighed. Of course. This again. She pulled a photo out from her cleavage, shoving it under Blaine's nose before running back to the mirror to carry on caking her face with white powder. "Isn't she beautiful? She's from a respectable family. We've been friends with the Fabrays for years; her sister just married the most handsome young man. Just think, Blaine. Soon, that could be you. Don't you think she's beautiful?"

Blaine glanced at the picture before returning his gaze just past his mother.

"She's very pretty, mother." His complete lack of interest went unnoticed. He felt hands on his shoulders as Nick heaved him off the bed. He rolled his eyes at him, knowing he'd understand. He'd been with the family as long as he could remember, and was more like a brother than a butler. He handed him the costume, some kind of military uniform, black trousers and a red and black jacket with gold buttons. Blaine held it against himself and his face fell as he realised how good he was going to look. He didn't care about disappointing his mother any more; it was inevitable, but he didn't want to lead this girl on. If she got the wrong idea, it would be painful for both of them. "Do I really have to do this? I'm really not in the mood-"

"Blaine, I don't have time for this." He couldn't help noticing how inappropriate her costume was for her age. Black leotard. Leather jacket. And that awful wig. And she wondered why he was weird around girls. As far as he was conerned,_ this_ was what girls were like. "Just be polite. I don't want you embarrassing us, being all anti-social." She headed towards the door, glancing back at him. "You'll have to just suck it up and dance with her. I've got things to do. Man up and get ready." Blaine flinched as he heard the door slam after she'd flounced out in her seven inch PVC heels. What a class act.

Man up. _Man up_. His shoulders hung loosely as he took a couple of long, slow breaths, trying to hold himself together. Nick squeezed his shoulders.

"She is nice, Blaine. I mean, look at that picture. I wouldn't say no." He paused, trying to think of a way to comfort his friend. "You know, your mother's only doing this because she-"

He stopped. Blaine lifted his head to look at him. Nick couldn't lie to him. They both knew she didn't care. Time to bring out the big guns.

"Right. I shouldn't tell you this. I _should_ tell your dad and stop it from happening. But a little bird, a little blonde bird I like to call Jeffrey, has informed me that we might have some unwanted guests. Really unwanted."

Blaine's eyes widened. "No. Not-"

"This is the only clue you're getting. He's bringing some friends of his. Some people with the surname that never fails to make your father's head explode." Blaine's mouth fell open, and he grabbed Nick's arm in disbelief. "The surname that rhymes with funnel." Blaine snorted with laughter. "OK, that ruined the suspense I was building, but still, picture their faces. And just_ think_ of _all_ the _costumes_. We'll have a good night; I promise. Now get dressed."

He ran out of the room, probably to get a head start on the food, and Blaine looked at his costume again. Maybe he didn't mind looking good. Just to honour the family, of course.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt winced. He heard Jeff screeching before he could even see him. And that was saying something, because he was wearing a red cocktail dress, red fishnet stockings and a long red wig to match. And he was a good five inches taller than usual, thanks to his sparkling scarlet platforms. He tried to keep up his angst-filled façade as the car pulled up to their meeting point, but when Jeff shoved his chest in his face and carried on belting out Candi Staton lyrics it was impossible not to snigger. He was heaved out of his seat, which wasn't easy in chain mail, and dragged into some kind of dance. Jeff ran up behind him, a little too gracefully in those shoes, and picked him up. It felt like he was being given the Heimlich manoeuvre, and the effect was more or less the same, as he started coughing and spluttering in between laughs.

"Some knight you are! Those noises aren't exactly valiant." he scolded him, releasing Kurt from his grip.

"Why do we have to do this?" he changed the subject, shoving Jeff away, "You know it's going to go wrong. You'll get even more drunk. We'll get caught and thrown out, and everything will be ten times worse. And Anderson will kick the crap out of you."

"Me? But _I_ was invited! _You're_ a Hummel, it'll be _you_ who gets beaten up. Anyway, I thought you hated the Andersons? You should be jumping at the chance to wreck their party, their house, their lives, and drink all their booze."

"I'm not in the mood. I'll just be thinking about him all night anyway. How am I supposed to have fun when my soulmate refuses to acknowledge my existence?"

"Oh, right. The soulmate. The one man you can't live without, what was his name… Freddie? Fatty? Fuckface?" Kurt punched him in the arm. The heels and temporary cleavage didn't make him any less of an asshole.

"It's _Finn_, and you can't talk about him like that. You don't understand what it feels like. He's all I think about. Even when I'm asleep, he's in my dreams. How would you feel if you loved someone who refused to love you back?"

"I would feel like _this_! Because _I_ love _you_, and I'm trying to help you, and you're ignoring me. You're ignoring everything because of some stupid dream, some fantasy of unrequited infatuation. You've never spoken to him, kissed him, I bet he's never even smiled at you. How can it be love if it's one-sided? I thought the whole point was that there are two people involved. Like you and me. Seriously, _we_ are more of a couple than you and he will ever be. Now don't get me wrong, my being dressed as a whore doesn't mean I'm going to try anything, but you are closing your eyes to so much. There could be someone ready to love you back, not like I love you, but the way you actually want somebody to love you. And you won't notice them because you're pining over that meat-head."

Kurt was speechless. He had a point. How was he this articulate when he was so drunk? Normally, 'dude' would be a stretch by this point, but 'unrequited infatuation'? He must have been really pissed off. Or maybe he was on more than just alcohol. Maybe Kurt was wrong about him being less of a moron in drag. Obviously he had to try and pretend he didn't agree with him; Jeff was unbearable when he was right. Kurt flicked his head away. "Well. I can't exactly let this costume go to waste."

Jeff grinned, squealed, and tied a mask over Kurt's eyes. "Trust me. Tomorrow you'll have forgotten all about Felix, or Fergus, or whatever. Let's go. If not for yourself, for the Hummels!"

The others (a French maid, a princess and Catwoman - Kurt was starting to ask some serious questions about his 'boys') punched the air and shouted, "HUMMELS!".

Kurt laughed, adjusting his mask so it wouldn't wreck his hair. They all looked at him expectantly. He sighed and rolled his eyes, throwing his head back and shouting "HUMMELS!". They all cheered and jumped into the car, sending up clouds of dust as they headed straight for the Anderson house.


	3. Chapter 3

"Nick, it's fine. I honestly think you have a shot there. And honestly, who doesn't love bears? The costume's great, you're great, just go. I'll come down later."

"Are you sure? Really sure?"

"Yes, I promise I don't mind-"

"Oh. Actually I meant about the bear thing. I'm just kind of sweaty, I mean, I would be anyway, because I'm nervous, but this is really hot, and, uh-"

"Would you just go? You look cute, and she's going to love you." Nick took a deep breath, cleared his throat and made his way toward the brunette at the bar.

Blaine stood at the top of the stairs. He leaned on the banister and looked down at the throng of people whilst sipping his champagne. He had to admit, there were perks to having unbelievable snobs for parents: they always bought the good stuff. Even though he would have been just as happy with a hot chocolate and a quiet night in. He'd rather be alone than here, surrounded by assholes guzzling drink after drink, and yelling and dancing. The music was deafening, and his head was pounding. He started walking towards the bathroom. And then he saw him. And he couldn't even hear the music any more.

~10 minutes earlier~

"Kuuuuurt! Dance with me!" Kurt glanced around to see if anyone had heard Jeff shout his name. He had no idea how, but people seemed not to have noticed. In here Jeff seemed comparatively sane, so as far as they were concerned he was probably just background noise. Jeff looked him straight in the eyes, again making it hard to tell if he was drunk or just really excited. "Look. Nobody cares. They all just want to have fun, and so do I. So we're dancing. And remember, I'm a lady tonight, and obviously a very classy one", he directed Kurt's eyes to the tight red dress that barely covered his ass, "So don't try anything." He wagged a finger at Kurt, landing it on his nose. "You don't know what I've got down there." Before Kurt could argue, his hand was being pulled, his arm almost coming out of its socket, as he was dragged into the middle of the room. The hall spun as he was twirled around again and again, constantly checking that his mask was still on. He eventually managed to stand up straight again, only to see Jeff already talking to a girl. Even Kurt had to admit she was gorgeous, albeit in a slightly desperate, cleavagey kind of way.

He failed to understand how, when Jeff could score in a cocktail dress, he could dress up as a _knight_ and get zero interest. He remembered to be careful what he wished for when he saw the girl point at him and whisper to her friend, who couldn't stop giggling. Neither could Jeff, who was struggling to breathe as the tiny girl pushed her chest out in a misguided attempt to snare Kurt. As she strutted over to him, his eyes widened with panic.

"Oh, excuse me, I am so sorry but I just started feeling really sick. Horribly sick. No, no, nothing to do with you, it's just, uh, I have to go, OK? Sorry. Sorry."

"Well, slow down, cutie, you're supposed to be sweeping me away on a white horse! Hey, if you want I could come and take care of you-" She smirked, and Kurt felt relieved that he was no longer lying. He genuinely felt sick. The mixture of her perfume, the noise, people crashing into him, it was all to much. And the idea of her 'taking care of him' was almost enough to push him over the edge. He didn't even reply. He just ran to the closest door, brushing against Jeff en route with a quiet "I. Will. Kill. You." in his ear. Jeff collapsed, sniggering, into the arms of his new girlfriend, not so worried about Kurt any more.

Kurt found a bathroom and immediately ripped his mask off, started splashing cold water on his face and taking deep breaths. He tried to do both at once, and managed to inhale a gulp of water, falling into an uncontrollable coughing fit. He leaned on the sink as he got his breath back. He ran his hands through his hair and looked in the mirror. He felt so stupid for coming here. It wasn't worth all the hassle, the costume, the mask, the paranoia that he'd get caught, that tacky girl, the noise everywhere… He had to get out. He'd stopped coughing, but he still couldn't breathe. He walked out into the corridor, desperate to get outside and feel some cold air on his face. Then something distracted him. Someone. He felt like he was outside already. He shivered. His eyes locked with a boy's. A boy with dark, curly hair and hazel eyes. The room stopped spinning, and suddenly the boy was all he could see.


End file.
